Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. “I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. . ” She said warmly. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. She had not seen Ramage for ten or eleven days, and she was quite ready for a gossip with him. “You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. Lucy collapsed to the floor in a sob. " "It is past," rejoined Lady Trafford, recovering herself by a powerful effort; "but never allude to the circumstance again. Oh, John.
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